Sound of Madness A Dark Royal Romance - Maria Luis Page 0,76

the inside of my thigh, then at my entrance. The tension in the silk sash goes slack, until I’m hovering just above the altar, a veritable buffet for Damien’s hungry gaze.

Take me, I want to tell him. Please, please now.

Need unfurls in my veins and I move my hands, finding the hard balls of his bare shoulders, and—

He thrusts deep, plunging in to the hilt.

I cry out his name.

“Fuck,” he grunts, his hips stilling immediately. “Rowena, fuck, you’re so tight.”

He’s bigger than I anticipated, and I squirm beneath him, hips churning, nails clawing down his back. The silk sash catches the weight of my head even as I arch my spine and bite back a sob.

Good God, I’ve been impaled.

“How long has it been.”

I grit my teeth and breathe through my nose. “Just move.”

He slides out, slowly, until only the tip of his cock remains within me. “How long, Rowena.”

Squeezing my eyes shut, I twist my head to the side. “Don’t ask this of me.”

“Tell me.”

Embarrassment is a poison, and its toxin licks at the flames of my desire. There’s no shame in admitting the truth: I made a decision to reclaim what I’d lost. Only, I never expected my celibacy to last as long as it did. I never expected the distrust I had for men to turn to fear, so that every graze of a masculine finger, whether sexual or not, left me chilled to the bone.

I was once the big, bad wolf. And then I became terrified of my own shadow.

Until now.

Until him.

“Ten years,” I whisper. “It would have been four, but I couldn’t . . . I couldn’t go through with it.”

A slow, heavy breath is expelled above me. “Do you trust me?”

The answer should be no.

I’ve hunted this man across London. I had orders to kill him. Just hours ago, he came to take his own revenge. We’re enemies that have found each other on the same side of a war. And while the answer should be no, all I hear from my lips is “Yes.”

“Then hold on to me, and don’t let go.”

He starts with tiny pulses of his hips that barely bury him inside me. But each smooth retraction of his cock steals my breath. Again, he pulses. Again, I fight for air.

The silk sash tugs upward, and I follow the silent command blindly.

Soft lips kiss my neck. He thrusts a little harder. Another kiss, this one on my jaw, followed swiftly by a second thrust that plunges deeper. It’s a calculated onslaught designed to make me lose my mind, and holy hell, he’s succeeding.

“Yes.” Wanting leverage of my own, I plant one hand on the marble and hook my leg around his waist. “Yes.”

Against my calf, the muscles of his arse flex with every roll of his hips. I gasp, then feel Damien’s mouth brush my earlobe. He nips the sensitive flesh, tugging on my earlobe. Growls low in his throat when I squeeze around his cock and throw my head back, heedless of the silk.

It’s the only invitation he needs.

He doesn’t take me. No, he bloody well devours me.

His cock plunges deep and his free hand grips my hip, fingers biting down on the soft flesh like he relishes the feel of me. He holds me steady, refusing to let me wriggle myself away from his punishing thrusts. One deep, two shallow, two deep, three shallow, three deep, and so on, until sweat sticks to my skin and I’m begging for him all over again.

“Please. Oh, God, Damien. Please.”

I hear the slick glide of his cock pulling out before he rocks forward, pressing deep. My toes curl, heels digging into his lower spine. I hear his satisfied purr and, like the addict that I’ve quickly become, I succumb to the desperate, clawing need to churn my hips and meet him thrust for thrust.

“Fuck me, Rowena,” he bites off, dragging me down on top of his cock so hard that I hear him, hear us. “That’s right. Yes. Use me.”

The silk restraint slips free as Damien’s hand takes its place. He holds me captive, drawing me closer. His forehead touches mine and the heat of his ragged breath teases my lips with every exhale. He’s consuming me again, inhaling me without actually kissing, never closing that last remaining gap. Both of my legs go around his waist, and the angle—

“Like that,” I whimper, clinging tight to his shoulders, “just like that. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

He reaches a hand between us and

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